I used to make hearts out of stars
and turn crayons into prayers
You’d whisk me away, troubles forgot
taking a part of my soul with you
I’d hide the pain you caused
turning them into magical love songs
I’d lie to the world, hiding every sin
Our orchestra of bleeding violins
Sometimes the memories spark
and the fuzziness falls apart
I’ll recall the timing of our hearts
the way we scripted each other’s part
These feelings once consumed me
and I’d get so overwhelmed
So easy to feel sorry for myself
until I remember all my fears
We got twisted and turned around
always waking up to be knocked down
Reaching for hands too busy to be lent
Smile! People might start to talk
The hardest part is in the remembering
the ease with which we laughed
And in the pain of each stabbing cry
that claimed moments just ticking by
HASTYWORDS 
The juxtaposition of the title and the content of the poem is striking. It seems such a hopeful title but the text of the poem(eg, “Smile! People might start to talk” and “that claimed moments just ticking by”) seems mournful, resigned. That tension really struck me.
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Yea the title needed to turn imprisonment into freedom.
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Ah! I wish life were like that and you could just turn imprisonment into freedom with a title change! I dunno… Maybe you can sometimes.
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So good. So painful. And DAMNNNNN you can write.
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Wow… this is beautiful.. You are incredibly talented!
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